


All My Best Stories are Co-Written by An Arcane Deity

by Llewelyn



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Eldritch, Fanfiction, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 14:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19320208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewelyn/pseuds/Llewelyn
Summary: Zoe wants to write fanfic. Zoe can't. Zoe asks Z'gord for help... WITH SEXY RESULTS? No just kidding he helps her out a little bit or something idk





	All My Best Stories are Co-Written by An Arcane Deity

“This is supposed to be easy,” Zoe said. She was staring at her laptop, a blank document open, with the words “SEXY SHENANIGANS” in bold at the top. The document cursor blinked at her suggestively, like an eye-signal from a too-drunk vampire during happy hour. “You have the idea, you open the thing, you write the stuff, it’s awesome, you share it for everyone to read…” Zoe tapped one of her many tentacles on her desk with a _squish_. Several ambient tentacles waved in the background, hoping to be noticed.

“Well, this time the idea is… EVERYTHING SUCKS.” Zoe scrunched her eyes furiously and jabbed at the keyboard until an entire page of her fic read mostly “ASDGLKJASDGKLJ”. She opened her largest eye and SKREEEE’d, blasting a wave of eldritch energy at the laptop and desk until both had disintegrated into sub-constituent particles reliant only on fear to sustain their manifestation in current reality. One of them said “…ow?”

“Shut up!” Zoe said. She stood up in her chair and pushed it back angrily, then melted it with a dose of eyeball-insanity for good measure. The chair began to dissolve like a piece of paper underwater, until all of it was a tapered flag flying in the wind, and then a grocery store receipt lit on fire, heat-sensitive ink, and the last tiny molecule of the chair absolved to nothingness… But it was still just a chair. A dumb chair in a dumb room with a dumb melted computer and desk and a FANFIC THAT REFUSED TO WRITE ITSELF AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGH!!!!!

“Everything is sexy!” Zoe shouted. “You’re supposed to open it up and then sexy stuff comes out! And wacky stuff! And… Scott has an arch-nemesis named ‘Not-Scott’! … Oh my self, that is so fucking terrible! HELP!”

Zoe manifest another chair, this time with much more personality and obsidian carving and some horns on the top, why not, and sat down in it to have a moment. Zoe had been having a lot of ‘moment’s lately, and this one was no better than the last one had been.

Where were all her ideas?

When she was bored, before, that was all it took—sitting down to brainstorm was as easy as breathing, and the second she’d taken a breath of air, “Damien x Miranda crackship” jumped into her head, with all the details, contexts, and most of the dialogue and description being pre-written by some part of her brain that was purely devoted to manifesting crackships. That was only one part of the fanfiction matrix that she’d programmed to rule the majority of her consciousness, or at least to suppress the bit of it that wanted to dissolve all of reality and feast on the residual traces of its despair. Mmm… residual despair.

But none of that was helping right now. Zoe wasn’t just a fanfic author—she was a fanfiction artisan. A fanfic savant extraordinaire. If she couldn’t just sit down and tap into her muse… then where was her muse?

Maybe it was time to talk to Z’gord.

Zoe had made a rule around the time of her transition—no thinking about Z’gord, no talking about Z’gord, no Z’gord period. Even if your history with eldritch, soul-consuming deities wasn’t that robust, all it took was a Monstagram picture of Zoe’s previous eternal self, destroying an entire reality just because the way they buttered their toast in the mornings wasn’t conducive to the never-ending oroborus of reality, to convince people manifesting as a cute high school girl was much more convenient for every sentient being within a four-multiverse-expansion constraint. And now even that wasn’t enough.

Zoe kept thinking about Z’gord. Thinking, technically, of herself. But the more time passed, and the more Zoe got accustomed to her sass-having, idea-generating, purple-tentacled kawaii self, the less she enjoyed reminders of what she’d been before. Now, when she closed all her eyes to see the great beyond, the only thing there was a mirror, and it had “Z’GORD” in big letters on a piece of masking tape at the top. Zoe was done with it.

“If you want me to be you AND worship you, you have to give me a little something back. Reality isn’t going to unravel itself if you keep containing your sermons in—“

**Ļ̸̗̳͇͆͠I̵͕̦͂͊͆͐F̵̺̝͂͐E̷̥̠̳̘͛ ̵̹̋̈́͒͒S̴̮̍U̸̲͎͈͋̌͐C̴̫̿̇͠͝K̴̟̐͝S̸̝̯͚͓͆̀͝.̶̤̊ ̸̫̭̖̘͆̆͑E̵͚̐͆̓̚V̷̪͖̙̰̈́̎E̷̦̤̊̈́R̵̯͎̹̀Y̷̛̳͙͗̕T̸͓͂̃H̷̖̯̟͔̽̔Ḯ̸͍̻̎͗N̷͎̩̺̯͝Ģ̵̯̠͛̊͘ͅ ̴̫̞̮̇̇S̷̥̈́Ụ̷̣̀͝C̶̫̯̖͠K̴̯͖̊͜S̵̺̬̑.̸̖̓̓ ̴͚̞̮̱̎̈́̃͘W̴̥̻̽͊̍͠A̶̠͒̔H̴̢͕̤̮̆̕H̴͎͔̖͗H̷̛̟̑.̴̮͍̭̥̇ ̶̖̊̄͑͐Ṫ̸͍͍̖̾H̵͇͊̽͛E̵̛͎͍̫̝ ̷͓̭̊̈́͗Ȇ̸̜͖̫̱͐͝N̵̜͕̋̚D̵̻͒͌ͅ**

“Um… hello? Oh. We haven’t had a direct line in a while. Hold on, I need to make sure—“

**M̴̖͍͙͈͆͛A̶̭̲̒̄̓̄K̵͈̻̞̹̄̈E̸̤͛̉͆ ̵̞͎̩̲̕͘S̴͇̑̃U̴͍͚̒̏R̵̞̘̹͑̾͐E̵͈̮̬̅ ̸͔͍͘O̸̩̪͍͓͂F̷̫̜̭̓̓ ̷̹̖̃̂̌̅Ǹ̵͕̣O̷̥͋͆T̶̢̨̜͔́H̶̬̞̓͋͑ͅI̸̡͖̙͂N̶̘̋̇Ǵ̷̡̱̗̺̍.̵̪̋͝ ̶̯̐̔͌̉W̸̝̲̻̽Ĕ̶̞̤̳͒̚ͅ ̵̩̹̪̥͑̑̍H̵̟͍͉̽͒A̷̠̬̅̃V̶̙̺̊̈̈́͠E̶̫̼͖̾͠ ̶͕̑͆̏͜Ç̶̥̬̄R̸̺̺̋͊͒̃E̴͇̗̠̽̇Ạ̸͠T̷̞̫̳͖̓Ȩ̴̱̮̈́̉̑D̵̢̬̕ ̸̣͖͈̜̊̒͂T̸̜͑̅̽̈́H̸̩̯̽̕͝ͅI̷̦̞̫̐S̸̤̣͋̆ ̴̠͉̑͘I̸̦̭͠N̷̢̺͖͇͋̌Ş̷̌Ṫ̷̢͔̺͇A̸̮̟̝̻͌͗͑͝N̵͓̈́͂T̷̘̖͗̿͜ ̸̺̀A̷̭̣̎͜ͅN̶͙͐D̵̞̐̄̑̽ ̸̳̓͌Ẉ̸̏̋̚E̶͕͉̥͋̕ ̴͎͍̓̄̎̕C̸̙͍͔͈̑̽R̸͈͒E̴͎͗͛͂A̴̢̫̪͋̔T̵̹̜́̔̽E̸̝̣̖̽̿͂ ̵͎͓͇̖̾̇Y̸͚̅O̶̧͌́̈́̈́U̴̘͌͠ͅ.̷͉͕̥̪̽̎͑ ̵̡̘͋̐́̓B̶̜͊͝Ĕ̵̟ͅH̷̖̪̩̠́Õ̸̞̙̓̀̕ͅL̸̖̺̼̾̕ͅD̵͍͖̬̃̾̽͝ ̸͓͉̞̟͠Ȏ̴̠͆͛͗Ů̷͓̽͜R̸̬͑̾̕͝ ̶͎̼̘̽̿̐Ē̴͕̾͊͂T̸̞̒̓̈́Ȅ̴̯̭̤͖̕͝͠Ṙ̶̺̉͛N̴̻̑͑̚Ä̵͕̺̜͓́͋L̶̛̫̉͜ͅ ̴̜̮̟͝M̷̜̫̦͇̆̑̂͑A̵̮̔͘C̴̡̻̪̻̊̎H̸̨̭̞̅̽͑Į̴̢̫͙͗̐̇N̸̜͉̘͘A̴̡͍͊̓̃T̴̲̜̳͋̃̏̚Ḯ̶̢̹̱̂O̴͙̟͆̉͝Ǹ̸͍̲̦͐͘Ś̵͕͌͠ ̵͈͐̿̉O̶̩̻̟̓͆̇R̸͚̝͂̀͗̚ ̵̡̦͐͆͂͆S̶̢͆̀U̷̮̝͙̓͝F̶͖̔F̵̦̼̥͗̒͐͜Ê̵̘̕R̶̞͎̀̽̉͊—̸̩͔̣̇̈́̈**

“Yeah yeah, everything is scary, nothing gets better. Look, do you want to talk or should I just hang up now? It’s been, like, 1.5 millenia. You can’t just pop into my head when I’m in the middle of an existential crisis, okay?”

**B̸͓̪̻̓̓̈́Ú̸̠̙T̵̞̮̊̍ ̷̫͈̱̮̈́̇̌͐W̷̧̨͔͛͘Ȩ̷̅̊̿͝ ̴̳̐͌M̷̰͎̿̓͝Ī̵̧̯S̵̙̈́ͅS̷͔̪̐͒͠͠E̴͇͍̹̠͆̃̍͂D̸͖͑͑̿ ̵̯̼̖̺̿̋Y̸̫̮̊Ỏ̴̘̝͍̈Ų̶͔͑͊̅̏**

“Aw. Okay. I missed you all too. A little bit. But look, you really need to—“

**P̵̢̠͎͉̏̓̏L̸̲̜̝̍E̶̺̠̔Ḁ̴͖̾ͅS̷̯̺͓̎͠͠E̸̤̰̫̊͠ ̶̳̌̃̄T̶̜̻̺͆͊E̴̛̯͑͜L̴̨̹̄̉L̷̥̺̊ ̸̘̔Ṷ̸̱̐̌̈́S̸̛̤̿͗̑ ̸̙̒̋W̶̺͝H̶̤̉̓A̶͓̲͑̉̓͜ͅT̵̩̟̤͊ͅ ̸̨͕͚̫̓̉͝I̵̤̾͜͝S̶̨͐͋̿ ̷̳̈Ẉ̶R̶͙̊O̵̠̩̽̈́͛N̶͕̜̓̇G̶̳͑̾ ̵̮̺̰̞̓̈́̂A̴̭̼͑͊̈́N̵̬̘̒Ḏ̴̯̬͒ ̸͔̱̔W̵͕͕̑̓̌Ę̵̢̫͆̕ ̸̬̫͓̓̈W̶̱͚͇͆͆͌I̴͔̙̺͗̕L̷̨̛͚͓͌̔͜L̷͎͐ ̶̤̞͛̅̐͘H̴͎̉͘͜E̶͉̾̃̈́L̵̛͚͈̱͚͐̂͘P̴̻̦͎̞̀̓ ̷̘̰̼͍́̀͗I̸͎̺͗̃̈́M̶͍̈́͝M̷̘͈̒E̶̘͋D̷̬̈Ḭ̶̧̟̜̏A̷̟̿̾T̶̤̈́̑̈́̊Ẹ̴̾̑̆̃͜Ļ̴͓̀͑Ŷ̴̧̛̼͈̰͐͠.̴͍͔̾̈́̔ ̵͖͍̥̰̊̐Ả̸̯̙̞̟̀L̶̘͊S̶̝͎̔͂̎̅Ò̵͙̻͇͉ ̷͍̩̏ͅC̴̱̤̽̏̒Ȃ̶̧̬̠̆̅N̷̗̜̟͊ ̸̯̓W̵͚̲͌̍͠Ḙ̶̀ ̵̻̳́̀͗P̶̳͇͓̞͂̓Ļ̷͎̾̕Ė̵̠̫͎̤̋̔͛A̴͖̦̩͋S̷̭̝͇̋̀̓E̷̢̱̞͊̐̌ ̵͍͕̽͜D̷͕̫̈́͗͘Ḝ̷̘̱͗V̵̭̩͘Ő̵̪̘̇Ȕ̶̢͇̮̣Ṙ̶̺̊͘ͅ ̷̮̎͠T̸̢̥̈͂̽H̴̪͇́͛̓͝ͅË̶͙́̏̈́̐ ̶̜̥͌S̴̝͎͆͜͠O̸̰͋͘Ṵ̵̰̉Ḽ̵̡̯̃͋S̵̞͆̽̕ ̶͉͓͛Ȏ̸̺̅F̵̨̲͂̇ ̴̭̙̳Ą̷̛̝̲́̆͘͜L̵̠̈̈Ḷ̴̅͒͒ ̸̨͔̮͙L̵̘̼͖͚̍͘I̴̠̘̊̽͜V̴͖̰̭͔͐̾͘I̵̱̎͌̚͝N̴̲̜̆́̀̔͜G̸̣͚͒̕͝ͅ ̶͇̏͊́̚B̶͕͇͔͋̌̎͠Ḙ̴̡̬̽͌I̴̡̼̦̐̓͑N̶̹̙͕̼̿̈͝G̸̠̋̕͝S̵͈͌̓̂?̴̱̗̈́ ̴̡̳̰̮̈́͝P̴̫͖͙̰̿͋̇̀L̶̖̏̽E̵͕̣̕Ả̵͇̜̤̚͠S̶̰̪͛̄Ë̵̜̦́̓ ̶̠̓̈́̒R̴̖̼̤̫͛̈́Ẹ̶̦̺̔S̸̡̨̗̔̊̀P̶̻̈́Ō̵̫͕̽̑N̶͇̱̰̻̂̔D̷̘̕.̸̨͔̺͝͝**

“Um… no. Well, I mean, like… eventually? You have to be patient, you can’t just—“

**Ņ̶̝̰́̃̏Ŏ̵̲W̵̲͙̤̌̈̑̌͜.̷̰͕̯͗̈́̉͝ ̸̙̏́̀P̸̘͚̯̍L̴͍̙͋͠Ȩ̶͎̈A̶̝͊Ş̵̭̲̥͒͌̊͗E̵͍̤͔̹͑̎̎ ̸̪̠͗L̵̐͐͜E̴̙̲͉͛̾͂T̴̻̐͐̄̕ ̷̲̜̪̓̒U̵͒͑̐͑͜S̴̜̟͙̘̒ ̵̺͌D̷̻̞̿E̸̺͔̗͗V̷̦̖͂̋̽O̷̯̱͈͈͒̽̿̌Ų̷̈́͠R̵̘̹̎̑̓ ̸̡̯̣̩͋͝Ņ̴̹͇͑O̵͇̮̕Ò̴̡̡̤̜͆O̶̧̢̬͐̈ͅȮ̵̘͗O̸̺̜̹͈͌̃W̴͍̻͋͠W̶̜̱͛W̷̺̱͔̌W̸̭̫̝͂͋̓W̶̧͚͒̿͝͝W̴̯̊̈́̑͝—̶̙͍̣̿̕͠**

“STOP IT! Look, come on, we can’t even have a conversation without you trying to devour the souls of all living beings. I think I’d better hang—“

**N̵̟͙̖̥̑͝Ö̵̡͙̻̣̈́̏,̷̧̭͈̠͂ ̵̞͓̹͛̆̓͌W̸̡̞̳̤͠À̶͖̙̖̏̋̈ͅI̵͔͕̰̜̊T̷͙̀.̵̜̉͆͆ ̷͎̯͕̔ͅL̷̢̬̫̍̔͠͝Ị̷̥̼̥͛͘Ṡ̷̡̼͎T̸͕̬͎̈́̑̏̈Ȇ̵̥̹̾̔̉N̵̞͚̞̦̆̚,̷͈̝͔͑̏ ̴̉͆͂́͜W̴̨͇̼̖̑̈́̓͝E̷̫̓͌͌ͅ ̸̡͍̉́C̷̘͍̠̘͘A̷̢̰̼͌̔N̸͎̫̆̋ ̴̡̥͖͎̂D̸̼͓̤͊̄̕Ỏ̴̧̟̎̈́͝ ̴̬̯̅̍͗͛B̵̹̥͔̦̃͘Ȩ̴̺̖̺̃̑͒T̴̩̄̈́́͐T̶͚̘̙̾͗̂͐Ề̵̹̓R̸̖̟͔̓.̷͎̿͜͜ ̸̡̼̺̋̃̎̚H̶̢͇̄̕E̸̠̦͐̌L̸͕͎͔̽L̴̰͉̯̝̍̈́͑͛O̷̙͍͛͛̔͂ ̶͖̠̘̬̈́͝͠H̵̥͂̈́O̸̧̥̝͌͒͠Ẅ̶̝͔̩͎́̈͝ ̷̻̓̚Ả̸̢̜͖͚̊R̴̢͘E̸̙͕̘̬̿̀ ̷̨̧̓Y̵̯̬̻̓̈́̐̈O̶̼̠̭̞Ự̷.̷̟̜̒͠͝ ̴̻̙̳͆̒Ġ̸̛͈̩̿͑ͅŎ̸̢̬̖̰͆̄Ò̶̡̨̨͙Ḍ̵̔͝.̸͚̠̳̅͝ ̸̭̮̹͚̉̍H̸̥͇̬̾E̷̢̓́R̴̡̘̳͇̽͘E̵̟͕͚͗͛͆ ̸̦͒̌P̷̍ͅL̴̜͐E̴̜̫̒̽͗A̵̭̝̗̰͠S̶̘̍̒̐E̴̢̻̠͗̔͠ ̶̬͚̮͛̅͌̽P̶̢͉̊͆̕E̶̡̢̻͍̅̏̒͊T̷͇̓̀̌̂ ̸̺̙͖̜͂̃͘T̸̢͈͓͐̄̽Ḧ̴͕̦͇́̽͝I̸͈̼̗͚̔̀S̵̨̲̿͒ ̸̢͋̌͊̅P̵̩̑̊̄̏U̴͉͐̈́̓́Ṗ̶̨̈́́̆P̵̫̞͓̣͒Y̷̹̪͂͆͠͝,̷̠̔ ̷̨̨͕̻̃Ḭ̶̻̟̿T̶̫̫̤̍̆̆ ̷̗͉̿I̶̤̥̠͎͛̓͋Ş̸͓̬͉̄̅̔̕ ̴̧̪͇̃Ṽ̸̫̟͔E̷̢̼͌̑R̸̪̣͍̞͑̈́Y̴̥̓͛̀ ̸̛̝̞̫̘S̶͉̈̽͂͘Ỏ̵͖̦F̷̧̣̝̝̆̈́Ţ̸̮̭͋—̶̘̠̲̅̈́̉͒**

“Okay, that’s better, but it’s not helping very much. Listen: What do you all want? I’m trying to write a fanfic at the moment.”

**W̴̛̤͙̉̊Ě̶̼̆̚͠ ̷͖̋͌̾W̸̩̤̪̼͋͐͂̚A̴̬̭̒͂̊N̸̨̗̰̱̈T̶̢̺͔͌͘ ̴̬͔͓͛̇̒Ţ̶̭̯͉͐̑̓O̷̦͈̻͍̊ ̸͈̪̒͑̈́ͅB̵̗̃̀̽Ė̶̲̤͎̍ ̵͎͙͐̽̇͝L̸͇̠͌̄Ô̵̙͉̠̦̊̋V̵̛͙̈́͒E̷̘̰͓̒̃͂̚Ḓ̶̛͝.̵͕́̊̇̕ ̶̜̰̌Ą̴̤͋͌͜L̸̞̼̻̑̈́͘Ş̵̦̇͜Ǫ̸̨̹̿ ̷̗̻̞̻̎͗̊W̴̖̼̝̏͜E̸͕̬̳͎̍ ̸̼͎̩̈͘͝W̵̹͔Ȧ̵̝̠͕̘̑͝N̵̖̝̥̑T̷͈̻̯̐̓͒ ̷͕͖̌A̶̯͚̻̻͑͆̆͝ ̸̞̞͌̒͠S̵͙͎̙̃̎̎W̵͓̼̊Ę̵̭̞͓̾̔̋̈́Ê̵̲̣͆̅ͅT̵͔͚̦̍̃͋ ̴̡̒̒K̶̻̹̈́I̷̱̥̾̔͌̕T̸͔̼̑Ṭ̸͙̤̼̾̆̕͝Ÿ̶͕̮͔́͑ ̷̙̃̉̏T̸̼̊Ỏ̵͎͘ ̵̡͈̃͗ͅP̶̢̬̝̈́Ë̵̢̮͉̼́̅Ţ̷̬̯͛̊̄.̴̨̥̟͋͊ ̸̬͋̓͑͝P̶̭͈L̸̨̲̋̓̋̿E̶̝͈̰̓A̶͉͋̃S̷̠͚̯̆̈͝E̶͚͍̜͋̉̄̕ ̸̜̝̜̱̅A̴̝̼̎N̸͔̘̩͆͒ͅD̵̤̤̾͐͑̚ ̴͓̼̑̅̄Ṯ̷̒̕H̷̼͌͌̚Ä̸́̑̽͜Ņ̵̱̝͕͗̈̅K̵̢̼̳̹̽͆̇̇ ̸̨̊Y̴̢̟̭̦̽̍͒O̸͈͈͍̟̚Ȗ̸̥̅̕**

“This can’t just be about that. EVERYONE wants a sweet kitty to pet. Or a sweet puppy. Look, this is supposed to be a fanfic about—“

**S̶͖̫͌͆͐W̶̤͓̙͛͜Ḙ̴̣̓̊͝Ë̷̤̹T̸̩͛ ̶͚̓P̷̼͇̃̆Ư̴̹̪P̷̰̠̃̑̆P̸̡̯͕͌Ḛ̵̢̩͉̌͑͝R̶̦͖̕.̸̝̚ ̷̨̜̱̣̓̑O̷̩̾̈́R̸̨̨͍͗ ̷͎̿̌͗͝S̸̙̉̚W̴͔̫̖͐́͒͜Ẻ̴̬̟̿̀Ë̴̯̻́͝͠T̸͍̤̽̽͘͝ ̵̜̥̙̖̃K̵̰̜̞̂̾̕I̴̢̩̰̠͌̋͋T̴̥́͑̔Ṱ̴̎͐̒E̵̡̤͗̍R̴̤̲̉͝.̷̛͇͍͔̑̓́ ̶̯̫̯̍̅̃P̵͈̼̦̑L̸̢͖͍̥̏͠E̶̪̽À̸̰̻S̴͎͙̰̜̽Ĕ̸͖̜̉ ̷̛̘̎Â̵̢̨̬̫͠S̸̡̥̺̘̐S̴̺͎̩̓̚͝͝Ì̶̢̯͍͔S̴͖̮͋T̴̤̩̬̋͗.̵̣̖̹͚̃ ̴̳͒͒̈́Ẅ̸̻̾E̸̟̱̝͙̾ ̴̣̟͉͇͆̂͐̄R̴͎̣̃̽É̷̢̹͙̦̔̚̚Q̸̧̧̻̀̀̈́̕͜U̴̻̐̅̅͘I̴̠̤̦̾̐R̶̠̩͑̈́Ȇ̸̖͔͒̕͝.̸͈͔̋̌̄̑**

“Okay, okay. Do you know much about sweet kitters or puppers?”

**Y̵̨̰̹̤̌͒̎͂E̶̮͚̔Ș̴̈́.̸̩̟̹̯̈́̈́̃ ̸͎̈W̴̧̛͘E̴̘̫̍͐̋ ̵̰̭̬̥͐̃͠D̴͔̍̂̃Ĕ̴̩̹̥̽S̸̻̽͘I̸̥͛͋͝Ř̶̲͚̺͌̈́͐ͅĒ̶̛͙͙͐ ̷̳̭̂̽͋T̶̨͗͒̄͜H̵̹̱̼͂̊̿̍ͅE̷͍̟̽̐͘M̸̘͇̓ ̸̢̤̳̌͠͠A̸̙̣͈͙̿̎T̵̺̎͒͜ ̶͖̂̌A̸͐͒͜L̷̩̫͐͛̒Ḽ̵͕͎͎ ̴̗̥̖̑͊T̷̪̩̳̬͒̏I̵̞̺͐͛̈́̇ͅM̴̢̲̞̟̈̍E̷̘̽̈́̋Ş̴͉͑̏͜͝.̴͈ ̶̞̰̜̰̈͗̔S̴̡̠̜͖̈̅͊͘Ù̷̧͎̟Ś̵̲̳̱̄̓̕T̶̛̮̓̃͝E̵̮̳̱̺̔N̷̢̲͎̆Ā̵̤͎͊̒N̸͓̲̏̀͑C̸̬͍̣͉̊͑Ȇ̴͖ ̸͎̖͎̦͗̋S̴̩͈̖̏̈́U̵̬̼͝S̴̤̊T̴̨̝̿A̸͚̣͇͂Ị̴̛̟̒Ṉ̸̰̈͐̽S̷̼̯̉̈.̵̱͍̖͂**

“Does it now, really…”

**P̷̙̆̔͂̊Ḻ̶̐͜Ę̶̜͕͖̓Ā̸̡͔̰͙̓S̶̰͇̽͌Ė̴̮̣̂͑̄ ̶̞̯͉̪͘D̸̡͉̠̀̓ͅŌ̵̺̱͖͚̔̚ ̵̧͍̦̚N̵͉̈͜Ȏ̵̼̩̟͆͆͆Ṭ̸̢̜͛͑̓ ̵̟̖̝̇͠͝͠M̴͉̉Ȁ̴͍̫̩́͝ͅĶ̴̊̆͂̚E̴͇̯͈͛ ̷̜̪͙͑͜F̴̢̱̜͓̃̐̇̓Ų̶̥͇̄͂̈́͝N̶̠̠̣̈́͗͝.̶̟̼̦͒ ̷̡͚͊̌̊K̴̮͈̊̂͝Į̶̛̑͂͝T̷͖̰̹̱͋T̵̥͍͆E̷̘̪̳͓̐̉̌͝R̴͚̿͝͝S̶̨̾̕?̵̜̳͕̎**

“Yes yes. And puppers too.”

**W̸͖̼̖͋̈́̓̐Ȩ̸̤̤̙͗ ̸̩͔͈͔͌̓͒Ả̸̞̈́͝R̷̢̛̼͖̻͋͋̒Ę̸͕͂ ̸̨͈̬̘̈́̔́V̸̡̺͚̟̋̾̍E̷̳̝̓̾͗͝Ŗ̸̖̇̃͘Y̶̢̤̊̎̕ ̶͉̽Ĺ̵̛͈̣̱̈̓O̵̩͚͒͗Ň̶̠̋̑͘E̴̱͎̘̊L̸̫̓Y̸̛̙̻͙͐͆̍ ̴̝͕̌̌̄͊N̸̫͍̾O̴͉͎̠̱̔W̵̞͖̺̜̎̆̓.̴͍̬̊̏͠**

“Because I don’t call any more?”

**B̴͈͕̊E̶̦̯͚͉͗͂͊͆C̸̥̍̀͂̎ͅȦ̵̧̨̩̰U̷͚̾̔Ş̴̛̤̖̱͑̑͝Ê̵̙͎̟͊̏̾ ̵͍͎͔͗̔̈́Y̷̠̠̍́̐O̸̙͍͂̓U̸̥̺̗͙̍̌͐ ̴̢̰̳̼͊͋̒̊S̶̩̯̟͗̏Á̴̗͖͂Ỵ̷̝̠̆͆͛ ̴̯̃̋͛Y̶̨̼͇͐̏̉O̴̼̤̐͐Ú̸͕͇̳̈ ̸̲̫͕̀͠͠H̶̲͕͘A̸͉̻̪̱͗͊T̶̪̻͆͆̎̒ͅË̴̢͓́͛͝.̸̘̮̹̟͗ ̵͉̅͝Y̶͚̭̒O̵̙̾̕Ū̸̩̃̈́̚ ̷̰̟̬͓̄́H̸͓̩̩̓Ḁ̴̛̲̥̅͆T̸̟͖͓͚̿Ȇ̴͎̱͉͛̈́͌ ̵̥̭͇͕̈́̿W̵̛̗͙̉̿͜H̴̑͊̉̚͜Å̵͙̗̎T̸͙̱̱͙̂͗ ̷͖̫͍͜͝W̸̨̃͗̊A̶̪͚͖̽̓̈́S̵̨̪̦̮̈.̷̧̪͇̆̃͘ ̶͎̾̄̍ͅY̷̲̟̞̿̂͝Ò̸̃̇͜͠Ŭ̴̥̀͑̅ ̶̣̺̑͆̕H̴̫͌͠͝Ḁ̵̀̅T̴͕͇͛̽Ẻ̵̥̝̖̅̽͠ ̸̻̅̊͜Ẅ̴͓́Ḧ̷̙̯̣̓Ạ̸͎̙̤͂̉T̵̝̅̄͠ ̸̼̭̪͐W̶̰̞͊͑̔I̶͇̫̍L̵͓̲͓̈́́L̶̢̳͉͆ͅ ̷͓̼̪̉B̶̛̻̱̘͗Ȅ̷̢̟̹̇̉͘.̴͈͉̈ ̸̬̗̮̔̌̋͘W̷͇̺̍̓̆̕H̴͕͍̄̚E̷͉͍̹̋̓͆͝R̸͕͙̒̿̀͜Ę̴̢̙̗̆̃ ̶̮͐͝Ị̶̂͐͘S̶͓̤̆̋ ̶̹̼̇̃́͝U̷̻͐̅̚͘S̵̪̎̎ ̶̟̫̝̝̄̚W̷̢̱̥͎̉I̶̖̺̐͋̈́T̷͙͍̣̥̓H̵̞̦̟͒̑Ô̴̱̘͜ͅU̶̳͌̑̐̋Ţ̵̣̠ ̴̙͋H̵̘̑́͝Ą̴̢͇̚Ţ̵͎͈̌̌É̷͙̥͔͘̚,̴̫̉ ̸̙̥̈́Ž̷̻̩͉́O̶̻̳̎̋͒̚E̸̞̺͚̘͠?̴͍̺͓̼̓͐͊ ̴̭̭̟͑͗ͅẄ̴̞͓̳́H̸͉̬̅̓͝Ẹ̸͚̀̆̌̒R̷̼̼̺̔̃͜E̵̳̋́ ̵̃ͅȊ̷̩͔S̶̳̣͌͛͛͜͝ ̷̻̽̒͝Z̶̥͒’̶͕̮̇͘G̶͉͎͚͕̍O̶̪͛̔̈́͑R̷̠̟̩͌̌D̵͚̦͆̿͗ ̷͔̲͈̽̍͐W̶͎̫̘͛͘͝Ḭ̷̙́̎͂͠Ṭ̵̰̊̇̾̈H̴̺̝͗O̴̧̧͇̮̒U̸͔̓́͘̕T̵̝̞̟͗̏̒͘ ̵̧̻̯̹̾̐A̴̢̧̲̕͜L̵͓̲̘L̷̫̟̃ ̵̛͈̯͙T̷̗̩̃̕H̶̩͖̳̚̕Ä̴̰̥̫́T̸̹͉̝͒̎ ̵̲̔͐F̵̧͔͈̈́͛̕Ā̴̹̩͐͌Ļ̷̨̛͇̤́͒L̷̨̳͖̝̈͌S̸̙͇͒̈͑͘ ̷̜̟͇̈̅A̴̛̞̳̻̝̓Ṕ̷͎̳̳̿̑͂Ḁ̸̧̤̞̊Ŗ̴̬̅T̴̪̐̚͝͝ͅ?̴̢̥̯͐**

“Um… jeez. I don’t know. You’re asking some really complicated—“

**̷̧̰͕̫͆̀̄W̴̭͔͍̘̋͗Ȅ̴̢͕͗̔ ̵̱̩̘͗̂͑͐͜H̶̳̖̙͌̍͜A̸̛̻͐̔̉ͅV̸͔͗̕E̸̥̊̇͂͘ ̸̼͇̽̃B̸̫̙̿̒̿̂E̴͙̐̇E̷̘̲̜̗̔̂͂̑N̶̙̯̑̇̊ ̸̨̤͖̐̇͝ͅU̸̟̇͝P̵̡̟̞̌͋̾S̶̼̦̍̃Ḯ̸͈̪̻͓̂͘D̷̛̝̠͆ͅḘ̶̗̮̽ ̸̹̜̌̀̚D̷͙̮̭̐͑͌͝O̵̢̘͌͋̈́̍W̷̢̟͇̟̄̂͘͘N̵̪̺̟͊̑͜ ̷̟̞̓͠Ą̶̧̪͉͆̋͠N̴͖̑̈́͠Ḍ̷̛̌ ̵̠̈́̂W̵̢̼͉͑̀Ḙ̷̯̓̋͒͜͠ ̵̇͜H̷͕͊Ǎ̸̛͍̲̠̪̿̆V̶͇̯̎͆E̴̩̭͉͗̾̈́ͅ ̶̛̤͇͊͂͝B̵̻̹̑͌͒Ẽ̴̪̼Ȇ̸̫̮̰̞Ň̸̼͈̞͘ ̶̮̦̠̞͑Y̴̳͒̂͌͠E̷̢̮̎̽̾̈́S̴͓̖̻͎͊͌͋T̶̢̝̳͍̎E̷̡̛̞̓R̵̰̟̅͝D̷̰͂Ạ̴̯͑͋̃͐Ỹ̶͖’̶̢͖̯͕̈̂̓Ş̶̙͉͍̈́ ̵͕̩̠̱͌̍T̴̘͖̻̦̏̌O̴̯̤͕̽ͅM̷̨̱̜̮̒̚O̴̜͎̓̇̀̐R̵̠̙̝̣̓̉̈́R̴̼̪̿͋̓Ǫ̷̪͌̽̚͝W̷̅͜.̶͎̝̟̲̔͝ ̶̫͍͑̕ͅW̶̢̛̦̋̓̽Ę̶̹̈́ ̵̰͕̊̅̔͜ͅR̶̬̾̈́͜E̵̠̥̟͂̒͐͝A̵͍̖̎̕͜L̷̰̫̥͒̉L̴̪̤̎̾͘̕ͅY̸̮̓̑ ̷̩͔̺͐̑͊D̸̙̫͍̿͒͘O̸̱̬̞͉͊͒͌N̵̨̰̥͛͊’̸̔ͅT̸̨̹̹̱̏͒̉ ̷̼͐́̉T̷̨̪̎H̵̞͗̃͠I̷̲͌Ṉ̵̦̆K̸̡͉͕͎̀͒̚ ̶̯͍̈́I̵̲̮͑̄̓T̵̮̋͑ͅ ̶̭͍̔G̴̦͙͕̑̔̐͠Ę̶̝̖̣̍̋̉͝T̶̻̹̄̍̑̄͜S̸͔̫͑̔ ̸̡̫̍̓B̷̡͚̦͎̿E̵̦͌̿͋̈T̶̗͚̞͗̎T̸̛̳̰E̷͉͝R̵̠̫̗͐͑ ̶͎͎̂̄T̵̢͕̙̈́͋̑̌H̸̪͖͓̱͐Ą̸̲̭̏̕͜N̵̦̞̓ ̸͌͜T̸̡̯͝H̷̢̯̖̽̄͆̚I̶̘̘̾́̀̓S̶̪̊,̶͚̙̲̅͌̒ ̷͕̹͕̞͐̐M̴̛̲̹̭̜̓I̶̧̪̥̊̚͜S̶̎͜S̴̨̤̋ ̷̧̬̭̂̈́͗Z̸̘̊̔͠Ǫ̸͍̾́E̵͖͉̥͌.̵̮̳͙̌̕͝**

“You don’t usually name me anymore. Should I be listening closely now?”

**Y̸̼̾̀̅͜E̸͓͎̣͙͛̇S̸̯̩̣̱̿̿̚̕ ̶̡͝P̵̪̞̤̯̂L̸̫̞̿E̷̢̨͈͆̚A̷̹̗͖͝S̵̫̓͝E̸̠̩̍̅͝.̶̜̞̬̒͋͋ ̷͉͕̙T̸͔̳͠H̶̛̘̥͍̕Ė̴̪̫̩ ̶̗̎͛̽̂S̸̛̺̹̃͐̋W̴̙̖̺̳̃͘Ȅ̴̞̖̋̏ͅE̶̺̯̓̚T̷̨̥̳̏̕ ̸͇̮̘̥̑̊͑K̵͇̼̱̒Ḭ̵͔͎͕̍͗̂T̴̨̲̥̘͑̓̚Ţ̷̱̤́̐E̴̫̔R̵̙̠̠̬͌̎ ̷̝̜̼̆W̸̨̲̪͌͌̒̓Ą̷̣̫̬̀́Ŝ̴̬̞̓̅ ̶̲͔̰̋̓͜Ḧ̶́͜E̵̩̜̥̽̓Ṟ̶̋̈̿͜Ȅ̷̹̄ ̷̳̠̫͛̇Ì̵̧͉̥̋N̴͔͍̙̅ ̴̢̿̕Ȧ̸͕̯̙̣̈Ĺ̶̫̑̕͝L̶̘̎ ̷̦͙͓̕T̷͎̞̭̍́̕͜I̵̺͙͖͊̀M̸̱̅̔̋͛E̶̥̎̅̆͗S̵͓̲̖̣̆̊̕.̶͚̈́̍**

“I don’t think it was. I evaporated my desk, and chair, and computer… I can buy new ones, but I don’t think that proves anything.”

**W̷̖͐́͝Ḩ̴͇̹̍͊̃͛A̷̝̞̬͂̚̚T̸̛̗ ̸̡̹͂̾̊̄I̴͈̥͖̣̐͑̒͐S̸̥͖̩̎̍̄͂ ̴̧̧͎͗̒̏T̸̺̜́́̓H̵̲̊̍̓͜͝É̸̲̔͝ ̷̛̮͚̩̃Z̵̹̙̿̏̅Ē̵̝R̶͓̝̋Ȏ̴̡͖̊͘͠ͅ ̸͖̙̏͆M̶̛̜̬͐I̷̙̝̿͑͝Ñ̸͇̱̦͜Ṳ̴͊͛̈́̏S̷̲̣͇͐̊͒E̶̢͕͙̘̽͊S̵̚͜T̴͚̒̂͛͐ ̷̥̣͚̜̑̚Z̵̬̭̙̲̅̈Ë̸̩́̕R̵̻̐̈͘O̶̩͉͎̓̀**

“Please don’t use math, no one will know what you’re talking about.”

**P̶̗͂͆̌̔L̵͎̲̏̔̋Ḛ̸̻̜̝̃͐͗̔A̵̢̛͐͑S̶̢̮̰̳̍̃̐͗E̴̪̫͚̦͝ ̶̭̱̳̺̌͝C̷̛̖̩O̸̫͖̔͒̊M̸̉̈͂͜͠M̸̪̊̃̈Ȃ̴͎̘̲̋N̶̙̮̏̉D̸̟̱͗̓͂̇͜:̸̢̨̣͙͌̋̍̋ ̵̡̳͙͈̇̇̓0̴͈̫̬̜͋̎ ̶̯͕̘̮̐͒+̴͓͈̣̎͋̇ ̷̼͈̫̬͛̉̀0̷̮͛̔ ̷̟͖̅̑̾̎=̴͔͙̰̐͋ ̴̧͉̮̬͒1̶͈̩͊́.̵̙̘̪̪̐̅ ̵̡͖͍͒͊P̶͓̣̊̾̑̚L̷͍͆̎͝E̶͓̼͍̍A̸͍̞̲̱̒͑S̵̭̖̬E̸̖̥̤̅ͅ ̶̡͇̜̊R̸̲̦̱̮̈́̓̃E̸̬̺͘D̸̛͉͈̈́̈́͐U̴̙̔̈́̓C̵̢̮̰̙̑͌Ȩ̴̨̓.̷͎̰̙͐̏**

“Oh ffs, I hate doing math. We had math this morning. I drew pictures of Miranda fighting exponents. Is that good enough?”

**P̶̥͕͇͍̆̋L̶̡͓̖̪̋̔͊͘E̴̘̖̾̐̆̍Ä̵͕̯͚̟̈́͑Ŝ̵̤̆E̷̝͙͋̔ ̴̧̳̲̱̅̎̓̀R̴͓͋͒ͅE̷̟͆̉̃͘D̸̙̩͍͉̓͐U̵̠̿̌̅̚C̸̛͎͔͙̓̚E̸̤̙̓̏̐͆**

“Oh fine. Um… zero plus zero. So that’s like, nothing plus nothing? So if nothing sits around being nothing forever… eventually it decides to be one?”

**R̶͎͉͎̩͆̚̕Ȩ̶̭͍̅͊͑D̵̛̗̥͉̽̕͜U̸̫̎C̷̟͖͍͑͜Ę̶̡̼̑̅͜D̷̛͇̯͌.̸̯̫͔̈́̐ ̵͑̆͜ͅP̵̡͚̣̺̽̅L̷̨̝̯̝̋̚Ë̸̩́̈́̀A̵͉̦̬̍̔ͅS̴̨͈̺̩͊̔E̶̬̚ ̷̘̗͝E̶̱̦͑Ẋ̷̘͒̂P̸̼͚̒͑O̶̜̔ͅṴ̴͈͚͂͠ͅŃ̶͔̥͙͒͜D̶͚̺̍̇̏.̴̧̓͛͆**

“I hate expound after reduce… so, if nothing is nothing forever, eventually it’s something… but then isn’t something the same as nothing?”

**Ĉ̶̗Ǫ̴͓̘͊̍͑̏R̶͉̎͌R̷̙͌E̷̺̾͑C̷͍̐̀͆Ț̷̒͋͘ͅ.̷̪͚̔̃͒͛ ̶̯͍̈́̈̈́͐R̸̳̥̤͔̄Ȇ̷̛̬͕̅D̴̤͓̮̖̃̈Ù̶͕͕̋̃C̵̳̺̩̣͋Ę̴͈͚̟̿.̶͙̋͐**

“Something is a little bit more than nothing…?”

**R̸͇̙͇̍͆Ȅ̵̯̖͌̀͂D̶͚̬͍̈́̃U̴̳̠͝C̵͖͇̭̰̆͒E̵̯̹̭̲͆.̴̨͙̈́̃**

“Fuck… okay, so if two dudes are hanging around in a room eventually they’ll fuck? What is it you want me to say?”

**R̸͇̙͇̍͆Ȅ̵̯̖͌̀͂D̶͚̬͍̈́̃U̴̳̠͝C̵͖͇̭̰̆͒E̵̯̹̭̲͆.̴̨͙̈́̃**

 

“…”

**R̸͇̙͇̍͆Ȅ̵̯̖͌̀͂D̶͚̬͍̈́̃U̴̳̠͝C̵͖͇̭̰̆͒E̵̯̹̭̲͆.̴̨͙̈́̃**

“You used to speak a lot more languages than just English, you know.”

**N̸̛̟̐Ó̶͓͍̭̐̓͝S̵̠̔T̸̢̻̒͋̀R̵͍̟̫͛Ū̶̲̮̹̣͒̉́M̶̩͋.̸̖̳͎ͅ**

“Okay, okay, I’ll go back to work… Just be patient with me, okay?”

Z’gord’s silence is like a town-square clock, piercing the hour with a bell that removes sound.

Zoe sighs.

“For one thing… it’s always sex. Sexy shenanigans. Sexy parties. Everyone wants to do sex and be on drugs, and that’s because it’s all just…”

**F̸͉̝͎̞̔̓̃Ų̶̥̝̭͌͂̉N̷͉̏?̶̩̒̈̃͝ͅ**

“Pretty much, yeah.”

**S̷̢̞̞̫̈́̌Ő̷̙̒ ̷̧̖̲̀͆̾̉Ẅ̶̲̤́̒H̵̨̼̩̾Y̷̧̝͕̊̿͗ ̵̜̖̙͑͝Ȧ̸͎̻̅̽͜R̴̛̺Ę̷̔̾ ̵̺̩͍̠͌Y̵̥͎̎Ȏ̷̖̜̘͖̀U̶̟͙̥͙͐̄͝ ̷͖̞͉͛̆̌Ṡ̴̩̤̤̓̕I̸͉̼͒̾͗͊T̵̡̤̲̩̅̔̈́̾Ṫ̴̥̄̿I̴̬͋́̉͝ͅṈ̸̜̒͑̀͑G̸̻̊̌̊̈́ ̴̪͈͉͒̽̀͝H̴̟̠̥̃̈̏̈Ẹ̶̬̟̓Ŕ̴̝̃̽E̸̱͇͑͋̈́ ̶̤͈͕͎̓̈́L̵̟̼̎Ő̷̲̎̒N̷͚͋̂E̶̯̦̕̚̚L̸̙̑̓͠ͅY̶̩̞̳̮̒͝ ̸͚̝͉̱̉̓̅̚A̷͓͛̅͗Ņ̵̓D̶̙͉̰̅͋̎ ̶̳̒̀̋͆S̶̝͍͑͋͜Ơ̵̛̙̲̱͈B̷̝̫̫̺͋̏È̸̪̬R̷̜͓͆ ̴̗͝A̷̡͂͝͠N̵̞͕̯̣̈́̈́D̵̡̼͌͜ ̵͈̞̑͆̅̈́Ņ̸̦̿Ǒ̷̝̺͈̼̐̆T̵̫̠͙͎̾ ̶͚̒̽͠N̵͚͔̹͍̏͒̎A̶̢̘͔̓͗̓K̴͇̖̬̐̚͝E̵̫̊͋̅͂D̴̲̔͆.̸̥̤̺͋͝**

“Uh… yeah. Well, listen, look, like, it’s complicated—“

**Í̵͉͔N̸̘̈C̴͉̚O̶̜̯̻͆R̵̡̜̳̕R̵̖̞̗̞̄́Ĕ̴̞̪̘̦̍̽̂C̷̣̹̞͐̈́̄̋T̵̎͜.̶̢͔̻̎̐̋̆ ̷̯͗̄G̷̨̜͖͓͆̊͝͝O̷̲̿̄ ̶̰̱̼̅F̴̙̀̆̃͘Ȋ̵̱̲̲͆̕N̷̢̓̈́̓Ḓ̴͒̓ ̷͔͉̿͑M̸̥̔Ả̶̢̰T̶̡͇̎E̷̩͓̣̮̅̀̄̚.̵͙̙̀͝ ̵̙͌̔S̴͓̫͈̅Û̶͇̈́͝G̶̡̻̭͓̽̽Ĝ̴̨̝̍͌͜͠E̴͙͈̦̓́S̵̢͖͋́Ţ̵̡͓̜͊͘ ̴̢̗͕̾̇̈́̒S̴͖̍̽͜͝E̶͓͝X̷̪̳̫̞͌Y̷̧̰͎͛͊͌͝ͅ ̶̤̚P̵̥͕̍̄ͅA̶̢͍̼̳̋R̵̻͔̘̓̑T̸̗͈̈́̓Y̴̢͚̘͑.̴̝̎ ̴̠̜̝̗̒̄R̵͉͑̿E̶͉̝̼̎͝T̷̢̛͔̝̔͝Ų̶̠͕̺̆̔͝R̵̖͊̃͛N̷̮̼͉̈́ ̶̳̈́̀W̵̲̐̽͆̉H̷̘̗͗Ẻ̴̦̬̰̱͐N̵̺̱̰͂̓̅͜ ̶̝̮͖͋͝͠Ç̷̮͍͓̎̊̈̋Ō̵̰M̸̨̳͕͗̈́P̷̠͋̂̓͝Ļ̷̥̯̎͊̌͒Ë̶̖̥̮͇́̒̊T̷̼͖̉̊̈́͘ͅĚ̴̡̘̬̦̊.̷̮͂͒͠**

“Hey, I can’t just—“

With a whoosh loud enough to suck a baby’s favorite color out of it (jeez that’s scary maybe I should edit it out), Z’gord vanishes. Zoe is alone in her room again. There’s a poster of Ry’leh on the wall, with his autograph and a heart. “Mistakes are proof that ou are trying!”, is another one. HANG IN THERE, BABY!, with the kittens.

Zoe sighs.

She picks up her phone and looks for a number. _Click_. Boop boop. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri—

“Bleh… hello? Who is it? It’s 2AM…”

“Hey Liam. It’s Zoe. Do you wanna go to the arcade and play Stab Stab Revolution?”

“… You said ‘hey Liam’. You clearly know who you’re speaking to, and the number you’ve dialed. But if you want to play Stab Stab Revolution, you probably meant to dial Damien…”

“Okay, we don’t have to play SSR. Do you wanna go for tea and talk about nucleotide base-pairs?”

“…how much do you know about tea?”

“As much as I know about nucleotide base-pairs!”

“…”

“…”

“… Let me get my coat. I’ll meet you at _Coffee Place_. I think they still have tea there too.”

 _Click_.

 

 


End file.
